


Writing Prompt One-Shots ~ Alistair and Cateryna Cousland

by Elissa_Alenko



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-03
Updated: 2013-12-03
Packaged: 2018-01-03 08:25:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1068242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elissa_Alenko/pseuds/Elissa_Alenko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One-shots from tumblr that I wrote as a warm-up for a big project I'm working on, all about the relationship between Alistair and my newest Warden, Cateryna (Cat) Cousland. Thought y'all would be interested.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prompt A ~ How did their first kiss go?

**Author's Note:**

> One-shots from tumblr that I wrote as a warm-up for a big project I'm working on, all about the relationship between Alistair and my newest Warden, Cateryna (Cat) Cousland. Thought y'all would be interested. 
> 
> The order may be a little screwy, since I'm still working on these as people send me prompts, but it shouldn't be hard to piece together. 
> 
> Special thanks to my betas: Anna, Spiral and Zetobichan!

 Cat was freezing. She didn't complain when they trekked for miles and her feet had coin-sized blisters. She didn't say a word when she was hungrier than she had been in her entire life, sometimes going days with little more than a nibble of bread and some unidentifiable, bland mush Alistair had claimed was rabbit stew. But now, as they slowly made their way up the Frostback Mountains, she wanted to complain. Ferelden was always cold, but she wasn't used to this; she had grown up in a castle, with warm furs and roaring fires to get her through even the worst winters the Maker could throw at her. She longed for that now, for home, but it was long behind her, lost in one bloody night she dared not dwell on. 

As the sun set behind the mountains' peaks, she announced that it was time to make camp. The others agreed happily; it seemed they were just as tired as she was. Despite Sten's stoicism and Morrigan's cold distance, the five of them had fallen into a comfortable routine. Sten and Alistair erected the tents, Cat and Leliana gathered firewood, and Morrigan hunted for their dinner. Tonight, Morrigan caught two squirrels and a rabbit in no time at all, and lit a fire for them with a flick of her hand before preparing her catch. Cat sat down at the fire pit, trying in vain to warm her hands, and looked around at the others. She had grown fond of each of her companions, in their own ways, but it was Alistair in particular she felt attached to. He was charming, and funny, and very handsome; she knew it was silly to be thinking of such things with the fate of the world in her hands, but... well, she liked him. Quite a bit. 

As if he sensed she was thinking of him, he sauntered over to her as she poked at the fire. “Cold, isn't it?” he asked, absently ruffling his hair. 

She looked up at him and smiled. “Yes, it is,” she said, stifling a giggle. She suspected her feelings were reciprocated, because he seemed to make these kinds of inane statements quite often as an excuse to talk to her. “Would you like to sit down? Morrigan said the stew won't be ready for a while, yet.” 

“Sure,” he mumbled, then cleared his throat. “I mean, yes.” He nearly fell to the ground next to her. 

“So, I imagine we'll be getting to the entrance to Orzammar soon. I'd quite like to see it,” she said, combing her hair with her fingers. She had plaited it that morning, but her wild curls never seemed to want to stay in the braid, much to her dismay. She hoped at least the cascade of rust-colored waves was as distracting to her opponents during battle as it was to her. 

“Me too. Perhaps we could sample some of that dwarven ale, hmm?” 

She giggled and they fell into silence, staring at the fire. “If you don't mind, I need some help getting this plate off. My fingers are too stiff,” she said, turning so he could reach the fastenings. 

His ears tinted red in the waning sunlight, and he blinked several times. “Oh! Of course.” His hands fumbled with the fastenings, likely more out of embarrassment than unfamiliarity, but they soon gave way. She shivered when the plate was lifted off, now just in a plain tunic, trousers, and her chainmail. 

“Thank you,” she said, flashing him another smile. 

“Oh, no problem! I'm always happy to help a beautiful woman undress,” he smirked, sounding much more confident than he looked. 

From the corner of her eye, she swore she could see Sten shaking his head at the remark; whether it was out of disgust or entertainment, she would never be able to tell. As far as she had seen, Sten had the same expression for every possible emotion. 

Cat stood up, rolling her shoulders slightly. “I'm going to get this mail off and find some drier clothes. Back in a flash, promise.” She crossed the camp to her tent and changed, practicing conversations with Alistair in her head. She donned her warmest pair of socks and her boots and wished very much for the feeling to return to her toes, and that she owned a pair of mittens. Finally she emerged from her tent, finding Alistair not far outside of it, playing with her Mabari, Argos. 

“Oh! I wasn't gone that long, was I?”

“No, I...” he cleared his throat. “Actually, I wanted to talk to you about something, in private.” She glanced over at the fire, where Leliana, Morrigan and Sten were now sitting; the stew appeared to be ready. 

“Okay. What can I do for you, Alistair?” She threw an imaginary stick for Argos, knowing he wouldn't be back for a while. 

“So all this time we've spent together... you know; the tragedy, the brushes with death, the constant battles with the whole Blight looming over us... will you miss it when it's over?”

She put a hand on her hip and smiled. “Miss the battles? Or miss you?”

His face reddened and he shifted uncomfortably, but he surprised her by continuing with his serious tone. “I know it might sound strange, considering we haven't known each other for very long, but... I've come to care for you. A great deal. I think maybe it's because we've gone through so much together. I don't know, maybe I'm imagining it. Maybe I'm fooling myself.” He took a deep breath, then took her hands in his. “Am I... fooling myself? Or do you think you might ever... feel the same way about me?”

Cat tried very hard to stay serious, but he was so very cute when he was nervous. She straightened her back and looked down, pretending to be bashful. “Oh, I don't know, Alistair...” she tore her hands away, tossing her hair to the side dramatically, “it's really too soon to say.” 

He was a smart man, that Alistair, and she had just told him everything he needed to know. A cocky smile on his face, he tipped her chin up and their eyes met. “Well, is it too soon for this?” One hand wove into her hair as the other pulled her hips close to him, and he kissed her. All at once, her frozen toes and fingers were forgotten, and the warmth of his lips was the center of her whole world. She let her arms wrap around him, and she could feel him smile against her mouth. 

Finally, they pulled away from one another, and he asked again. “Not too soon, then?”

“I don't know. I need more testing to be sure,” she said, again deadly serious. 

He wasn't falling for it this time, though, and his happiness was written all over his face. “Well I'll have to arrange that, then, won't I?” His tongue flicked over his lips, as it tended to do when they flirted. Cat thought she knew why now. “Maker's breath, but you're beautiful. I am a lucky man.” 

“Yes, you are.” Cat kissed him on the cheek lightly. 

“Now,” he said, clearing his throat, “let's get back to... what we were up to before...” 

“Dinner?” She grinned and took his hand, dragging him to the fire, which somehow seemed just a little too warm. 


	2. Prompt B ~ In what ways do they prefer to show affection for each other?

 Cat and Alistair were damn near inseparable, which was grating on Morrigan's nerves. It wasn't that she particularly cared that they were “caboodling,” as Alistair had put it, but she wished that they weren't so... obvious about it. It was annoying, and frankly, it was distracting the both of them from what they were supposed to be doing. How the fate of the world had come to rest in the hands of those two was beyond her, really. 

It might not have been so obvious to the others (well, not at first anyway), but Morrigan watched everything. It started with small things. Alistair was always... pleasant with everyone, she supposed, but it was clear that he favored Cat from the moment her mother had brought them to their hut. He worried about her, he went out of his way to protect her, he offered her the better cuts of meat, he put her tent closest to the fire. Morrigan probably noticed his feelings before Cat did, but before long he was fumbling over his words and making sure he washed his face and asking Leliana if she thought Cat was interested in him. 

Cat was more clear about her affections, though Alistair couldn't see it. Her face brightened whenever he was around, and she was always touching her hair. She asked his opinion on everything, though Morrigan herself was hardly ever consulted, nor were Leliana and that qunari, Sten, when they had joined their endeavor; now that the drunken dwarf and the would-be assassin had joined them, it was abundantly clear that Cat cared little for anyone's opinion but Alistair's. 

Now that the pair had confessed their feelings for one another, however, they had reached a whole new level of obnoxious. They were constantly picking up useless objects as gifts for one another, complimenting one another, holding hands. In camp they would sit for hours by the fire side by side, just talking about things of no consequence and occasionally kissing one another. They were always laughing, even when neither of them said anything particularly funny. Alistair always seemed to have his hand on her back or her thigh, and she would ruffle his hair. Really, Morrigan did not understand all the touching- or why, if they wanted to be together, they had not yet shared a tent. She may not be an expert on social graces, but was that not what people who were attracted to one another did? Surely they were aware that their time together was limited by any number of things; the assassin could have been successful, for instance, or the Mabari could suddenly go rabid and rip one of them to pieces, or the earth could open up and swallow them, or they could... turn her offer down, and die battling the Archdemon. Perhaps they didn't know about that, yet, put the point remained. They were in constant danger, and they were wasting time on frivolity. 

But what did she know? She was just a Witch of the Wilds. 


	3. Prompt C ~ What habits does each of them find endearing in each other?

 Cat, for all her eccentricities, didn't care very much about what other people did. She herself had always been the oddball, and so if other people had strange habits, mostly she just didn't notice. If she did, she didn't let it bother her, because she knew she had plenty of her own. But Alistair was an oddball, too- and for the first time, she felt that she had found a kindred spirit; perhaps even the love of her life. 

But Cat had never been one to come out and say things like that. She just hoped that the way she acted and talked around people was enough to let them know how she felt about them, and when she had told Alistair that she loved him she had surprised even herself. Since that night she and Alistair had grown very close, and she had noticed all these little things about him that she loved too. She didn't think love worked that way; she had always thought that you loved a person and that was the end of it. But she found herself falling in love with the way he hummed when he polished his armor, and the way that he still said his prayers every night before going to sleep even though he hadn't attended a chantry service in years. She loved his jokes and his bashfulness. And she needed to tell him those things. 

They had just climbed under the covers, and Alistair was eager to start their lovemaking; before she knew it, his lips and hands were all over her. “Wait, wait!” she said, drawing away. “I need to talk to you about something, first.” 

Alistair's features darkened, and his brow furrowed. “I did something wrong, last night, didn't I? It was that tongue thing, wasn't it? I knew I shouldn't have listened to Leliana, she was probably...” 

She put her hand over his mouth. “No. Trust me, I liked that. I don't know why you went to Leliana for advice, but that was good.” She took a deep breath. “It's something else.”

“Should I maybe be wearing more clothing?” he mumbled into her hand. She moved it aside and let it rest on his cheek. “I'm not going to have to leave the tent after this talk, am I?” 

Cat laughed. “Of course not.” She kissed him lightly. “I just... Well. You know that I've never really done this sort of thing before.”

“And I haven't either, but I think we're figuring it out quite well... together.” He laced his fingers with hers. “Is everything all right, Cat?”

“Yes. That's what I'm trying to say. Everything is very very all right,” she said, a small smile playing at the corners of her mouth. 

“I don't understand.” 

“I love the way you need to pick the lint out of your toes when you take your socks off.” 

“What?” He chucked nervously. 

“I love that you really listen to Leliana's stories long after everyone else is bored.” 

“I'm just trying to be polite...” he mumbled. 

“I love that you make sure everyone else has enough to eat before you take any food for yourself, even when I can hear your stomach growling. I love that you ask Wynne to help you mend your clothes when you know perfectly well I can help you.”

“You have enough to worry about...” he began, but she continued on. 

“ I love that you say your prayers every night after you think I'm sleeping, because you're too proud to admit you still believe. I love that you...” he pulled her into his arms and kissed her, his fingers weaving into her wild hair. 

“And I love that you have no fear whatsoever.” He said, then kissed her again. “I love that you pretend that you can't get your armor off by yourself because you like to make me blush.” Another kiss. “I love that your nose crinkles when you lie.” Another. “I love that you spend all your extra coin on little gifts for us, even though you really shouldn't.” Another, as she smiled against his lips. “I love that you play with your hair when you're lost in thought, and that you chew on your lips when you're angry.” 

“So you understand, then?” she whispered. 

“Of course I do.” 

“I didn't think...”

“That you could love someone, and still fall more in love with them every day?” he chuckled, kissing her once more. 

“Exactly,” she said quietly, resting her forehead against his. 

“You could have just said that, you know. You had me scared for a moment.” He smiled, his eyes searching hers. “A man hears 'we need to talk' and he is ready to flee.”

Cat giggled. “Sorry. I'm still trying to figure all this out.” 

“So now can we get to the steamy part?” he teased. 

“Absolutely.” 


	4. Prompt D ~ What was their first fight about?

 “Cat, we need to talk. Now.” Her head snapped up, immediately concerned by Alistair's gruff tone. She and the rest of their companions had been sitting around the fire, enjoying their meal and getting to know their newest member, Zevran. Alistair had elected to inspect and repair the party's equipment, claiming he wasn't hungry and the task wasn't going to complete itself. Thinking nothing of it, Cat had let him be, but now she wished she had paid more attention; she suspected she was in trouble. 

She made her excuses and the two of them walked out of earshot of the others. Argos followed, likely sensing Alistair's bad mood and ready to protect his mistress if necessary. Cat patted the Mabari's head reassuringly, waiting for Alistair to start. He was silent, though, hands folded behind his back and face scrunched as he paced in a small line. Cat suspected he was choosing his words carefully. 

Finally he stopped abruptly and faced her. “I know I said that I'd rather follow than lead. Most of the time, I'm glad that we defer to your judgment, because half the time I don't know what I would do. But Cat... he tried to kill us! And you decide he'll make an excellent traveling companion not five minutes later! Are you mad?”

Cat took a deep breath. “I thought we discussed this already, Alistair.”

“Well I'm not done talking about it!” he shouted, drawing a growl from Argos. Cat knelt by the dog's side, stroking him until he was calm again before she returned to her feet. 

“You're right; you chose not to lead. It wasn't your decision, it was mine. I trust him. If a point comes when I no longer trust him, I will deal with him accordingly,” she said, her tone cool and even. 

“And what exactly could have made you trust him so quickly? You think that just because he called you beautiful, he won't stick one of those fancy knives in you as soon as your back is turned?”

Cat smiled. It wasn't the knives he was concerned about Zevran sticking in her; at least, not entirely. “What is this really about, Alistair?”

There was just enough of a pause to tell Cat that he knew what she meant. “I'm concerned about your safety! About all of our safety! He's an assassin, for Andraste's sake! He can't be trusted!”

“Leliana was an assassin, in Orlais. Morrigan and her mother killed templars for fun. Sten killed an entire family with his bare hands. You, and Oghren, and I, are all trained warriors. We are all killers, Alistair. Zevran is no different.”

“Zevran had a contract out on our lives. I think that makes him different.” He was pouting now, and Cat almost gave in. Almost. 

“Which is void now that he has failed. His life is forfeit if he returns to the Crows.” 

“Why do you care what happens to him? He. Tried. To. Kill. Us.” 

“A lot of people are trying to kill us! When one of them changes his mind, I'm not going to turn him away!” Her temper was flaring up now in spite of herself. “Just admit that you're jealous of the pretty elf and let's move on!” 

His face turned a bright pink. “What? I'm... I'm not... why would you...” he stammered. 

“You are. You think his charm and experience are going to steal me away. Admit it.”

“No, I...” he huffed. “I'm concerned for your safety, and I'm upset that you didn't consult me about him joining us, and I'm...” he hung his head and sighed in defeat. “And I'm jealous. Okay?”

Cat threw her arms around his neck and kissed him. “I love you, you ridiculous man.” 

“Wh... What?” His face flushed again. 

“I love you,” she repeated, tilting her head. “I'm not so easily swayed, you know. Do you think an exotic accent and a couple old lines are enough to take my heart away?”

He swept her up into his arms and kissed her, all his insecurities forgotten. He set her back on her feet, and smiled. “And I love you. So much.” 


	5. Prompt E ~ What have each of them given up for the other?

 Alistair considered himself a fairly skilled fighter. Having had endured templar training, and with the strength and stamina that came with being a Grey Warden, he could hold his own on the battlefield. 

But Cat? Cat was something else.

To see her in the heat of battle, eyes blazing and hair wild, was awe-inspiring. She would lose herself in a fury, charging and spinning and hacking, as if killing were a dance that came as naturally to her as sleep. 

At first, when they'd fought together at Ostagar, he had been impressed. Now that he loved her, that grace and passion and complete focus on the field only worried him. 

He had tried to mention his concerns once or twice, but she always brushed them off. “I know what I'm doing, Alistair,” she'd said, and he had let it go. 

Not long after, during their time in the Brecilian Forest, he, Cat, Morrigan, and Leliana had been overrun by werewolves, and Cat had once again let her instincts take precedence over her own safety. At the time they seemed to have the pack of werewolves under control... but a second wave of the ferocious beasts joined the battle and, before he knew what was happening, Cat was taken down. Hard. 

He and the others finished off the remaining enemies in a flurry of magic and arrows and frenzied swings, and he rushed to Cat's side. She was unconscious and bleeding heavily, but alive. His fingers danced lightly over her lips. “Cat, please wake up. Oh Maker...” He pulled her up into his lap, trying in vain to rouse her. 

“Alistair,” Leliana said, breaking him out of his panicked thoughts, “we need to get her back to the Dalish camp. They can heal her.”

“And no one thought to suggest bandages and a poultice for our hemorrhaging leader?” scoffed Morrigan, wiping sweat and blood from her brow. “Or shall we let the scent of her blood attract more of these accursed beasts, so they can tear us all limb from limb?” 

“You're right, Morrigan,” Leliana said. “Come, Alistair, I'll help you bandage her up.” 

The group made their way back to camp, Alistair cradling Cat like a child the whole way. With the Keeper's magic, Cat was up and moving in no time, and eager to return to their mission, but Alistair was hearing none of it. 

“Cat, you could have been killed!” Alistair shouted. Cat sat down on the bed and pouted, and Alistair took a deep breath. “You are not going back out there. You need to rest for a few days, and frankly I don't want you back around those werewolves until we're sure you aren't infected.” 

“I wasn't bitten! Just scratched! And I'm fine, as you can see.” She stood up again and did a little dance, as if it would somehow reassure him. 

“Stop it, Cat. You aren't funny,” he said, trying to hide a smile. She kept at it, adding little twirls and shaking her hips as she tapped her feet, and soon they were both laughing. 

“Oh come on, Alistair. I'm really okay, I promise.” She draped her arms around his neck and rested her head on his shoulder. “What are you so worried about? Everyone gets hurt sometimes.”

“You scare me to death, Cat. You really do. When you go into a frenzy like that, you... it's like all you see is the next enemy, the next kill. And today it nearly killed you.” He kissed her forehead. “I can't lose you,” he whispered. 

Cat let out an exaggerated sigh, rolling her eyes before looking up into Alistair's. “Do you really think it's that easy to kill me, love?” 

“I think anyone can be killed, if they let their guard down. And you did.” He tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “Why aren't you taking this seriously?”

Cat paused, mulling over his words. “I suppose you're right. I just... never saw the way I fight as, I don't know...”

“Reckless?” 

“As dangerous.” She kissed him. “I love you, Alistair. I don't want you to worry about me.”

“And I want you to be more careful. Why is that so much to ask?”

A wide grin spread across her face, and she jumped back. “Okay. I'll make you a deal. I will promise to be more careful, really, truly promise, if you promise to stop worrying so much.” 

“I'll hold you to that, you know,” he replied, returning her smile. 

“Can we go hunt some werewolves now?” She pouted, blue eyes twinkling. 

Alistair heaved a sigh and reached for his sword and shield. “Let's go.” 


End file.
